


Somewhere Over the Rainbow

by HellenARTworkS



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Crossover, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22759663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellenARTworkS/pseuds/HellenARTworkS
Summary: The kid rested his head on his chest, «Song, pwease?»«Alright, buddy,» the alchemist smiled, holding the child closer to his chest. «Uhm... what would you like to hear?»«Vawian song,» the little one muttered, playing with one of his shirt’s ties, and with that Varian was left at a loss.Perhaps he wanted to hear something new?
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	Somewhere Over the Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a series of discussions with the sweetest 1A-lchemist via Discord, from which was born also an illustration for this piece. I don't often write fluff, so I hope this works, hah.  
> Also, many thanks to ratedPG12 for her invaluable help with the baby talk!  
> Here's a link to Jeremy Jordan's singing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EOYOkubFWyc

The owl hoot-hooted again behind the window panes, overlapping his cry with the wet, bubbling sound inside the only lit room in the small, round house.  
The light was dim, coming from the last, short candle at the corner of the makeshift table on which the alchemist boiled his umpteenth attempt over the burner.

Surely, the space was tight, and the air around was rather humid — which made for quite a few accidents with very unstable compounds — but he could make it work. It was only until he could make it back to Corona, anyway.

His eyes shifted nervously from the parchment with his scribbled formulas to the beaker in his leather-clad hands, in which he carefully released three drops of a somewhat-fluorescent solution and proceeded to stir with a spatula until it blended nicely, changing to a purplish hue.  
Then he took a breath — although interrupted by the littlest cough, for the ceiling was nowhere as tall as his own laboratory, causing the fumes to saturate the room way too fast to his liking.

Not that he could complain, anyway. He was thankful enough to have this laboratory — _scullery_ , truth be told — in which he could carry out his experiments albeit stuck in this curious land.

And the dynamic in which it all happened still left him baffled, and quite frustrated at the lack of a scientific explanation to date. Only this ‘Snork’ scientist — bless his kindness for lending him his spare utensils — could form some hypothesis on what caused that sort of disturbance in the time-space continuum, but not only the alchemist did not quite grasp the all-too-fast scientific progress of that society, he also had to be lectured on how his translation to that absurd parallel universe was to be associated with a mistake on his end.

His. Varian of Old Corona’s. The greatest alchemist of his century.  
All because this ‘Snork’ scientist decided to power on the _same_ invention at the _same_ time with the _same_ damned frequency.

He huffed, then shook his head.  
‘No profit in complaining’, his father would say. And he would be right, what was done, was done.

Plus, this ‘Snork’ scientist somewhat helped him find a place where to live.  
His sister was nice enough to introduce him to the rest of their society, _and_ her partner, _and_ her partner's family, and that was how, within barely a few hours, he found himself sitting on the softest sofa, with the warmest smile from a sweet, blond woman. Female. Feminine creature...?

She looked more humanoid than the hippo-like others — _note to self, **never** mention hippos to them **ever** again —_ but still rounder than a human, with a pointy nose, round and bright blue eyes, and even though a mother of three, _way_ shorter than him. And he was never a beanstalk to begin with.

Regardless, she welcomed him in her household without batting an eye, and next thing he knew she rearranged her living space for him to feel at home, made meals for him, darned his clothes, and even readjusted that scullery into some sort of laboratory for him to carry out experiments in blessed solitude.

Even so, her twin toddlers still found their way in his laboratory one way or another — although the one he would be wary of was the little girl. An insolent, nosy little squirt with the shrillest voice that enjoyed doing all sorts of thing one should not do, especially if it involved meddling with highly flammable or toxic materials. The other one, a boy, was more of an observer, and never raised a han— _paw_ if not given permission to. He tottered after his sister with a thumb stuck in his mouth, big brown wondering eyes over a dark pointy nose. Very accident-prone, and quite the easy crier.

That was why, even though his door was sealed shut through the day, the alchemist still found the most peace at night. The house was silent, the living room was empty, and he had all the time he desired to focus on his creative process, may it be for new formulas, recalculations, or sketches he needed to hide in the highest accessible place to avoid pastel scribbles or tiny paw prints all over them — courtesy of the twin girl.

Varian felt his eyes itch.  
With a sniff, he placed the beaker down on the table and proceeded to cough into his elbow, then looked up at the paned window to his left. Greenish fumes were swirling up to the ceiling, and he knew he needed more oxygen in the air in order for his experiment to be successful.

So he removed his goggles, hung them on the meat hook on the wall and trotted to the window.  
A cold draft thrusted its way inside, and with that the room went dark.

«Oh, darn it!»  
The alchemist was fast in scrambling towards the burner to keep it from blowing out, but not as fast in catching the beaker he heedlessly sent rolling over the edge of the table, shattering with a crash.  
That was it. Experiment done. For the _seventeenth_ time that week.

A series of cuss words died on a bitten tongue as he closed the burner’s valve, then produced a match to light back up all the lights he had in his vicinity. Surely, candles seemed to give out way less light than the wondrous electrical system in the other rooms, but they would do the trick for cleaning up the sticky, foul-smelling mess spreading on the floor.

Thank God he was mostly done with scrubbing the jellylike substance off the stone when he heard the door creak behind him.

«Vawian...?»

The alchemist looked over his shoulder to find a very drowsy little boy wrapped up nicely in his romper, a paw on the door, the other on his tired eye.

«Hey, buddy...! What are you doing here, where’s your mother?»

The little creature rubbed his eyes, then gave out a big yawn.  
Alright. Mom was not around. Sweet.

Varian carefully picked the shards of glass from the floor, then placed them on the table along with the sticky rag before treading closer to the toddler.

«What’s wrong, Joki? Why are you up?»

«T’irsty...»

The alchemist bent down with a sigh and picked the little creature up in his arms, then walked towards the kitchenette, «Thirsty? You should have a glass of water on your nightstand, remember?»

Joki shook his head, «Lili drank it,» he explained.

 _How typical_ , Varian thought, then grabbed a clean glass from the cabinet, filling it with clean water.  
He made sure to remove his leather glove before handing the glass to the child, who instead of grabbing it, just opened his mouth like a little bird.

«Wait, wh... _alright_ ,» he muttered, then carefully tilted the glass.  
Some water dribbled down the toddler’s chin and onto his arm, but he paid no attention. He instead made sure the kid was satisfied before placing the glass back on the counter, then wiped his chin dry with a thumb.

«Good. Now we go back to bed, yes...?»

Joki shook his head.

«No,» Varian acknowledged, unsure on what to do.  
He nervously looked about the room, teeth biting the inside of his lips in thought.

Then the kid rested his head on his chest, «Song, pwease?»

Wait, _song_?  
Varian let out a nervous chuckle. He knew well how much these kids loved songs. In the short time he spent with them, they tried to play with him, taught him rhymes, and games, and many of the songs they knew. Some of them, their father wrote. Some others were songs of their folk, which even their mother sang along from time to time.

He had to admit he found it endearing how much they liked to hear him sing, and whenever asked, if the timing was right, he would gladly deliver.

«Alright, buddy,» he smiled, holding the child closer to his chest.  
Joki loved his father very much. He often asked about him, and told many stories about him and his adventures. Perhaps he would enjoy the one going,

_All small beasts should have bows in their tails,  
Because now the Hemulens are closing the jails:  
Whomper’ll dance to the moon and rejoice.  
Blow your nose, little one, and laugh at the—_

The little creature shook his head firmly, muttering a “ _no, no_ ”.  
Varian cut his singing.

«No? Alright, uh— how about...»

_Snuggle up close, and shut your eyes tight,  
and sleep without dreaming the whole of the night.  
All danger is gone, and your—_

Joki shook his head again, and Varian readjusted the kid’s weight in his arms.

«Alright, uhm... what would you like to hear?»

The little one pressed his face into the alchemist’s chest, «Vawian song,» he muttered, playing with one of his shirt’s ties, and with that Varian was left at a loss.

“Varian song”. Hm.  
Perhaps he wanted to hear something new?

«Okay,» he responded, «But first leave these ties be, and put your head down,» he instructed, to which the child quietly obliged.  
Varian thanked him with a tender rub on his back, then took a breath.

_When all the world is a hopeless jumble  
and the raindrops tumble all around..._

_Heaven opens a magic lane._

Gently, the young man shifted the child in his arms, then slowly began pacing around the room.

_When all the clouds darken up the skyway  
there's a rainbow highway to be found..._

_Leading from your windowpane._

_To a place behind the sun,  
just a step beyond the rain..._

The little creature closed his eyes and sighed through his nose, tiny thumb reaching into his mouth.  
Varian rubbed his cheek on the child’s soft hair, and smiled.

_Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high  
there’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby..._

_Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue  
and the dreams that you dared to dream really do come true..._

The alchemist’s step changed, and now he stood in place, slowly rocking from side to side, eyes locked on the small, round face on his chest.

_Someday I’ll wish upon a star  
and wake up where the clouds are far behind me..._

Now his eyes drifted close, and he gently patted the tiny bottom sitting on his forearm.

_Where troubles melt like lemon drops  
away above the chimney tops, that’s where you’ll find me...!_

He opened his eyes again, and the child looked sound asleep at last, wet tiny thumb loosely hanging from parted lips. He reached to it, pulling it out and resting the tiny paw on his heart.  
Then silently he shuffled towards the staircase, and silently he made his way up, turning to the right, and past the small door leading to the children’s room.

_Somewhere, over the rainbow, blue birds fly...  
birds fly over the rainbow  
why, then, oh, why can’t I..._

Joki easily released his hold on Varian’s chest once he was laid on the soft mattress of his bed. The alchemist tenderly ruffled his brown tuft of hair and tucked him in, then quietly left the room.  
He closed the door, then rubbed his forehead as he hurried back downstairs.

_So, that’s what my life has come to_ , he thought. _Putting kids to bed as if they were my own_.  
For a moment, he lingered on the staircase’s split landing, wondering what his father would think if he were to see something like that.

But then again, perhaps he would only be proud.


End file.
